Disclaimer: I do not own Wreck-It Ralph. In fact, I can say I was very much pleasantly surprised at how good it was...
"Sweet dreams, champ."
Vanellope wriggled and grinned as the ham-handed hulk wrapped her in her blankets and made himself comfortable on a sloping bit of diet-cola wall, well away from the hot springs. "Sweet dreams"? With a day like this? For all she knew, maybe the whole day was just a dream! Ralph let out a drowsy snort. She snickered to herself. Who was she kidding? There was no way she'd dream up a big lummox like Ralph! Or…. Her eyes drifted from Ralph to the track. To the sweet beauty sittin' pretty on it.
She felt herself glitch. Any other night, it would have been a twitch of loneliness or a shot of the day's pains. Not tonight, no siree! Oh, tonight…! Tonight was just too great for sleeping! Why end the day at all? She glitched again, heart racing with sugar-high intensity. She felt like she could jump out of her sponge-cake bed and run a few more laps!
Hop out of bed she did – pity, since Ralph did wrap her up rather nicely – and approached the kart. But instead of leaping in like she glitched to do, she walked around it, running her fingers over it until she reached the inscription on the other side. "By Vanellope von Schweetz and Ralph." She looked up at Ralph as he mumbled – something about not liking chocolate cake – and rolled over into a rather unimpressive position, hind up and face smooshed sideways into the ground.
Vanellope traced Ralph's pink glaze tenderly. Not as pretty as her own signature – in fact, every bit as wacked as its author – but very special in its own way. She shook herself. Did she think that right? Ralph? Special? Her eyes darted from the glaze to the one who put it there. Massive, messy, stinky, stubborn, and currently with his face hilariously distorted. Him? Special? She didn't know whether the giggle was a product of the thought or seeing his position.
She stood up and jammed her hands into her hoodie pockets. Sauntering over to Ralph, she planted her feet in front of him and cocked her head sideways. His next snore convinced her to continue her study of him upwind. She remembered what she'd allowed herself to forget: he was from another game entirely and was only here… for his medal. So what was it that had convinced her that he was different? Special, even?
She looked at the kart. Then back at him. A grin split across her face. Ho, yeah, she'd figured it out. With an excited glitch, she skipped over to the little heap she called her room and rummaged around. It wasn't that she wasn't confident of winning his medal back – doy, she was gonna win! – but maybe, just maybe, it would help him understand. Vanellope stuck out her tongue a little, determined not to mess up. Ralph may not be perfect, but this sure was gonna be. This was going to reflect everything he was to her: a friend kind and true. She beamed and tucked the finished product under her pillow. She rolled herself up into her wrapper and her eyes drooped in satisfaction. But before they closed, she whispered, "Sweet dreams, chump."
Author's Note: Please review! (And if you've seen where my brain went, please direct me toward it. I think it was side-winded by this idea. Last I checked, it wasn't expecting a Wreck-It Ralph fic and certainly not one from Vanellope's pov...)